The League of Extraordinary Gentlebeasts
by Daibhid Ceannaideach
Summary: In a world where intelligent rodents and other small animals have their own society in the hedgerows of England and beneath the streets of London, such a society has the same need for extraordinary heroes as that of humans. A cheap parody of LoEG starring some familiar animal characters.
1. We the Little Folk

**Book 1**

 **We the Little Folk**

 _June 1898_

 _The Thames Estuary_

At the mouth of Father Thames, where the sewerage system designed by Joseph Bazalgette decides that it may rejoin the river without inconveniencing Londoners, two mice were looking out of an outflow pipe.

One was a petite brown female, wearing a simple red dress and with long head-fur tied into a pony-tail. The other was a corpulent white male, wearing a white three-piece suit that somehow managed to be spotless even in the sewer. The effect of white clothing on white fur was, his companion thought, somewhat disconcerting. On his pristine white cravat was a tiepin with a red lacquered head, bearing the monogram "D.M." in gold.

"I've considered your offer, Mr D'Angermouse," the mousemaid said in an American accent with a slight trace of Russian. "I discussed it with your ship's captain when he took me here from New York."

"I'm gratified to hear it," D'Angermouse replied smoothly. "And your decision?"

"Well, why me?" she asked.

"The Colonel and I have noted your younger brother had a variety of ... 'adventures' in the United States," replied D'Angermouse, with the quotation marks around "adventures" clearly audible to indicate his distaste for such chaotic events, "However, while he tended to get caught up in situations beyond his control, and make it work through a combination of luck and wishful thinking, you largely maintained a practical attitude and level head. That's the sort of thing we prefer at Rodent Intelligence."

"Makes sense," she nodded, "I guess I'm in. So now I pick up the other people on your list, right?"

"The ship remains at your disposal, Miss Mousekewitz. I shall tell the Colonel that you are on board. In both senses of the phrase."

"You do that," said Tanya Mousekewitz. "In the meantime, I suppose I'm heading for India."

She hopped off the pipe lip and made her way to where what appeared to be a miniature galleon, exactly the right size to be crewed by rodents, was waiting. The name VERMIN was written on the prow.

Watching her go, D'Angermouse produced a silver cheese-case from his pocket and took a slice thoughtfully, before frowning at the realisation that a single speck of dirt had dared to land on his suit. "Such disrespect for the work of the finest tailors in Gloucester," he murmured as he brushed it away. "Ah, well. Best report to the Colonel. He gets ... testy ... when he's kept waiting."

And despite all the time he had worked with the Colonel and got to know his moods, D'Angermouse briefly shivered.

* * *

 _August 1898_

 _Sagauli Province, India_

The tropical sun beat down on a bungalow. Tanya Mousekewitz, now wearing a light sundress and a broad hat, and carrying a parasol, was led toward it by a nervous-seeming shrew (although for some reason he insisted he was a muskrat), marvelling anew at the speed of the ship that had brought her here, now berthed on the banks of the Buri Gandhak river. The captain, although he was one of her team, had remained onboard, her guide having been rendered even more nervous by the thought of taking two people to the bungalow.

Which seemed long abandoned. "Are you sure this is the right place?" she asked as they reached the veranda.

"Oh, yes, it's the right place alright," replied the shrew/muskrat. "But I'll wait here. I can't go all the way in. I could never go all the way in." And he began to shudder. He seemed almost on the point of tears when he turned and fled back into the garden.

Tanya shrugged and slipped through a crack in the door. Entering the dusty and neglected main room, she found an elderly mustelid lying in the sunbeam streaming through the window.

"Are you..." she began, but he interrupted her, as his eyes attempted to focus on this intruder.

"They moved out, you know," he murmured, "All of them. Even the boy. I was never a pet, you know. Wild mongoose. Never a pet. But I liked them. Damn well saved their lives. Of course, they couldn't take me with them. Wild mongoose. But I liked them."

This confused and elderly creature was not what Tanya had expected. "Are you Rikki-tikki-tavi?" she repeated.

"Eh? Well, who else would I be? Saved that boy's life. That Kipling wallah wrote about it, you know. The family told him some, and he had a bit of animal-talk, heard the rest from Dahrzee and the Coppersmith. I expect that's where you heard of me, eh?"

"Well, yes," said Tanya.

"And that Cuchundra told you where to find me. So you want me to come and fight some more cobras? Or something worse? Is that it?"

Tanya shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know _what_ we're fighting yet. But 'something worse' seems likely."

To her surprise the mongoose brightened and hopped up, his dim eyes suddenly sparkling with crimson. "In that case, my dear, we must run and find out."

* * *

 _August 1898_

 _The Indian Ocean_

The Vermin was capable of amazing speeds, but even so, it would take some time to return to England. Tanya took the time to introduce her two companions to each other.

"Although," she said, "It's kinda hard to introduce two people when you don't actually know the name of one of them."

"Aye, you do," replied the Vermin's captain. "It's the Sea Rat. Just the Sea Rat."

"Okay, fine. Rikki-tikki, this is the Sea Rat. Sea Rat, this is Rikki-tikki-tavi."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir," said the Sea Rat.

"Likewise, captain." Rikki-tikki-tavi looked around him. "Did you build this fine vessel? I've never heard of a ship made to our scale before."

"I didn't build it, sir," replied the Sea Rat, "I discovered it. I used to go travelling on human ships, the way all sea rats do, and I heard rumours that a hundred years ago there were a group of pirate rats who had their own ship, led by a Captain Blacktail. So I sought out that ship, and made it me own. Old Blacktail called it the Vile Vermin, but I dropped the Vile. Mr D'Angermouse and his associates assisted in giving it a modern engine, which I admit I don't rightly understand myself, but that's how it can travel so much faster than the wind, or even one of those steamships the humans use now."

"Fascinating," said Rikki-tikki, filled with curiosity, "And we're heading for England? That's where the big man and his family came from. I've never been there before."

"Yeah," said Tanya, frowning at her list, "Our next stop is up the Thames Valley. Someplace called Toad Hall."


	2. Lands of Wonder

**Book 2**

 **Lands of Wonder**

 _October 1898_

 _Toad Hall, Oxfordshire_

While the Sea Rat's first mate, a young shipmouse called Thomas, maintained the Vermin on the Thames (or, as the Sea Rat pointed out, more correctly the Isis at this point), the three animals walked along a peaceful downland. The rolling hills of England were alien territory for all three of the League. Tanya was very much a city mouse, having been born beneath the city of Shotska and spent much of her young adulthood in New York. Countryside in general was unusual to her. And Rikki-tikki, of course, found the landscape very different from the jungles of India. The area was as foreign to the Sea Rat as the others, but unlike them he was used to everywhere being different.

They all, however, had to admit it was a very relaxing place, and they enjoyed the walk from the riverbank to Toad Hall. As they arrived, Rikki-tikki-tavi expressed his amazement, "It's a mansion! But built to our scale, just like the Vermin! Surely all English animals don't live like this?"

"Not so many," said the owner, Mr Toad, as he bustled out to greet them, "In fact, I think this is the last house of its kind in the country. I know Saffy Dormouse _calls_ her place Honeysuckle Hall, but it's just another burrow. The funny thing is the humans never notice it, or if they do they pretend there's nothing surprising about it."

He led them through the corridors and into a guest bedroom, where a hare was lying on the bed, seemingly catatonic. "That's why this poor chap's here, though," Toad explained, "Everyone else I know lives in a hole of one sort or another, and he won't go near them. Turns violent at the thought."

He led Rikki-tikki-tavi to the window, "Now if you're interested in that sort of thing, old chap, you might like to see those ruins out there. Very nearly as grand as the Hall, even I must admit. Back before the humans got here, there were lots of buildings like this. They destroyed most of them, largely without ever wondering what they were."

"Ah," said the Sea Rat, "I've heard of those ruins before. They're even older than Blacktail's ship. They say as that was an abbey run by mice, hundreds of years ago. And there was a great badger kingdom and all sorts of things."

"That's the story," said Toad, "Old Badger told me about it. He's descended from the Badger Lords, _he_ says, and still remembers when the Wild Wood was called the Bellflower."

"Well," said Rikki-tikki, "I think that all seems a bit far-fetched."

The sorry-looking hare suddenly snapped awake and turned on him. "Far-fetched? Far-fetched? How dare you, sirrah? My ancestors fought in the Long Patrol, and don't you say they didn't!"

Rikki-tikki's blood was up. "I have no idea what you're talking about, but if it's a fight you want..."

Tanya stood between them. "Enough!" she snapped. "Marchmont Hare, I presume?"

The hare stopped. "What? Well, yes. Marchmont Hare, at your service. Please, call me March. Pleased to meet you, miss. Sorry if I acted out of turn. I've been under a bit of a strain."

Toad nodded, "He's been like this ever since he emerged from that rabbit hole on the riverbank."

The Sea Rat looked puzzled. "What was a hare doing in a rabbit hole?"

Marchmont shuddered. "Don't ask. There are strange and terrible things down there. Jabberwocks and boojums and gryphons. I fell down it and got caught up in a mad tea-party. If the Queen hadn't called the Hatter away, I'd be there still."

The Sea Rat whispered to Tanya, "Well, Miss M, it looks like the latest member of our band is a lunatic."

"A lunatic with very long ears," snapped the hare.

Tanya now had to position herself between Marchmont and the Sea Rat. Running point on these personalities looked like it was going to be a trying job.

"One more to go," she announced to change the subject, "And we're staying in England this time."

* * *

 _October 1898_

 _Tatchester, Tatchestershire_

The house they arrived at next was human-sized. Tanya noticed that Rikki-tikki-tavi seemed quite relieved by that, as if the world was making sense again. They had taken a carriage to get here and had jumped off the back axel just as it passed. Now they slipped in through a crack in the door.

"Who are we meant to be finding here?" Rikki-tikki asked.

"D'Angermouse's note says he's called Hawthorn. No further details apart from the address. Nothing about how to find him or what's special about him."

"Hm. Remind me why it's just the two of us?"

"Well, we couldn't take Marchmont because of his mood swings. And the Sea Rat said that if March was staying on the Vermin, it was his duty to protect the ship in case the hare should turn violent again. So here we are."

They padded through the wainscoting of the house and Tanya poked her head cautiously into the hall."

"Mr Hawthorn? Are you there?"

"Yes?" said a voice, "It's been a while since I heard that name. This place is rather short of my fellows, they all went off on a model boat. Shouldn't really be possible, but there's a bit of what I've heard called dimensional instability about this place, mostly tied up to the young boy who lives here. Power of imagination, I think."

Behind her, Tanya heard Rikki-tikki muttering something about rodent-sized vessels being everywhere.

"In any case," the voice continued, "as the only mouse around here, I'm usually just called Mouse."

"I'll stick to Hawthorn," said Tanya, "We've already got one animal in the group who doesn't use a name." She looked round, "I can't see you."

"I think that's rather why you're asking me to join this group of yours," replied the voice.

Tanya took a second to realise the implication. "You're invisible?"

"That's right. The boy I mentioned; nice chap, doesn't deserve that witch of a governess, had an adventure not that long ago where he acquired some kind of invisibility potion. Well, it was terribly sweet-smelling, and I just couldn't resist. Not that I'm complaining; it comes in handy."

"In what way?" Rikki-tikki-tavi asked.

"Protection," the voice replied cheerily, "I did mention the governess was a witch, didn't I?"

"You did, yes," said Tanya.

"Well, what do you associate with witches?"

Before either Tanya or Rikki-tikki-tavi could respond, two shadows fell over them. They looked up to see two mean-looking cats, one black and one grey.

"Well, what do we have here, Greymalkin?" sneered the black one.

"A mouse, Blackmalkin. A mouse we can actually _see_. And ... some other rodent."

"Rodent?" snapped Rikki-tikki, his eyes flashing, "I'm a mustelid! As much Carnivora as you are, except I take on prey that actually fights back! Lets see how _you_ like that, eh?"

Since the cats were still twice Rikki-tikki's size, Tanya closed her eyes. But he was right, they were totally unused to their prey being a fighter, generally avoiding even the large rat that prowled the cellar. They hesitated.

On the other hand there were two of them, and only one of Rikki-tikki, so they might still decide to take a chance. And then, there was a third cat, coming from the opposite direction.

Tanya thought that was it for them, but the newcomer seemed to make Blackmalkin and Greymalkin even more uncertain. "Nibbins!" Blackmalkin spat.

"Now, if I were you fellows," Nibbins said softly, "I'd cut my losses and head back to Miss Pouncer. I don't know who these visitors are, but I suspect they're friends of Mouse. And I'm afraid any friend of a friend of Master Kay is a friend of mine. You could probably take me on between you, but the mongoose is an unknown quantity, isn't he? Maybe wait for a better chance?"

The other cats scowled, and wandered in the opposite direction. Nibbins turned to Tanya and Rikki-tikki. "I'd get out of here before they change their minds. I may be a reformed familiar, but I'm still a cat; I can't side with the mice too often, you know."

"Um, thank you," said Tanya, reminded of her brother's friend Tiger, "We just need to know if Hawthorn will join our group."

"I think so," came the voice from the air, "Those cats are getting awfully good at finding me even when I'm invisible. Might be an idea to get away for a bit. Keep an eye on Kay, won't you, Nibbins?"

"Of course, Mouse," replied the cat, "Those witches won't stop him on my watch! And I think the guards will be coming back soon."

"The guards are Kay's toys," Hawthorn explained to Tanya. She nodded. She was aware of the concept of living toys; they had their own community somewhere up near the Arctic, and had taken down the evil Rat King of Germany in the early years of the century.

Rikki-tikki also nodded. He hadn't followed most of this, but staying in the house to protect the boy; that was something he understood.

"Okay," Tanya said, "It looks like our band is complete. Now to find out what this is all about."

 _[Author's Note: The counterpart of the Invisible Man is me cheating horribly. Firstly, as I allude to, the Mouse in The Midnight Folk and The Box of Delights doesn't have a name. I picked Hawthorn because it follows the animal-story tradition of plant names (I really wanted to get more Watership Down into this story, but it was not to be); it sounds a bit like Haw[ley Gri]ffen; and it's a magical and pagan-sacred tree, which seemed kind of appropriate for Masefield's setting. Secondly, the Kay Harker books are very firmly set in the Edwardian era, and I have chosen to completely ignore this because I couldn't think of a better character. Thus it goes.]_


	3. Jack be Nimble

**Book 3**

 **Jack be Nimble**

 _October 1898_

 _The Rattish Museum, London_

With the group all collected, they had returned to London. Deep beneath the city, in the society rats and mice had built in the complex array of sewer tunnels and storm drains, was the Rattish Museum, where the subjects of Queen Mousetoria went to see such iconic items as the armour worn by the Greek hero Meridarpax. Deep beneath _that_ was the forgotten cellar where D'Angermouse had arranged to meet them.

With one thing and another, Tanya had found herself walking down the corridor to that cellar alongside him, while the others, presumably, were already there.

"So what do you make of our League, Miss Mousekewitz?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. Rikki-tikki-tavi is ... well, I don't know what the lifespan of a mongoose is, but I'm guessing he's seen most of it since he fought Nag and Nagaina. He seems excited at the thought of another adventure, but I don't know how much of that is denial. He was in a real depressed state when I found him. It could be he's looking for a suicide run."

"The Sea Rat is quite old as well," D'Angermouse pointed out.

"Sure, but he hasn't spent so much time in a funk like Rikki-tikki has. Part of Rikki-tikki is always going to be in that bungalow. The Sea Rat doesn't seem to have any strong connection to anywhere." She frowned, "That kind of worries me as well. I mean, I joined you to protect my parents and Feivel back home. If he doesn't have a sense of place, does he have anything to fight for?"

"Interesting. And Mr Hare?"

"Oh, the big guy's crazy. If we can keep the crazy pointed at the bad guys, whoever they are, I'm sure we'll be fine."

"Somewhat flippantly put, but accurate. What about our invisible mouse?"

"Hawthorn? He strikes me as the most well-adjusted person here, present company included. Although given that he _is_ here, I could be wrong."

D'Angermouse might have replied to that, but they reached the door to the meeting room. The others were all present. Tanya took a seat as he stood at the front, like a teacher preparing to lecture the class. Behind him, she noticed, was a portrait of the Four Mouseketeers: Amouse, Aramouse, Porterhouse and D'Artagmouse. She wondered if they had been members of a previous incarnation of the League.

"Now you are all here, I can explain the situation. There is a cat living in Deptford whom we believe to be very dangerous."

"Do you mean more dangerous than just being a cat?" Hawthorn asked ironically.

D'Angermouse scowled at the interruption. "Yes, I do. As far as we can tell, he's immortal. He's believed to have belonged to an alchemist in the 17th century, and developed a cult following among the rats of the borough. But until now he seemed relatively harmless; he never had enough power to extend his reach."

"So what changed?" asked Tanya.

"He acquired a portion of auroral gold. Mr Hare, I believe you can tell us more about this?"

Marchmont, who seemed relatively lucid for the moment, although clearly on edge due to being underground again, nodded. "It's an old legend in our family, older even than the Long Patrol. As you may know, hares and rabbits are associated with the Moon by humans. Apparently, even humans can be right about things sometimes, because the legend says a hare was the goddess of the Moon's servant.

"The goddess loved the god of the Sun, who we lagomorphs call Lord Frith. And she sent her servant, Jack, to give Lord Frith a token of her esteem which was made from gold taken from the dawn sky. He had many adventures on his travels, but when he reached Lord Frith, he found he had lost the jewel. And as far as I know it's been lost ever since."

"Until now," said D'Angermouse.

Rikki-tikki chittered impatiently, "All very fascinating, but where's the danger? What makes this 'auroral gold' such a threat?"

Marchmont shrugged, "I've no idea. As far as I'm aware, that's all the story tells."

"It's not dangerous on its own," ' D'Angermouse explained, "For the most part, it's just like any other gold. Shiny, inedible, humans seem to be fascinated by the stuff. But it has some interesting alchemical properties that ordinary gold does not."

Tanya nodded, "Okay. And this Deptford cat belonged to an alchemist."

"Precisely, Miss Mouskewitz. Our resident boffin at Rodent Intelligence, Gizmo Hackwrench, has a few ideas as to what that might mean, none of them good."

"He's the fella that built the engine onto the Vermin," put in the Sea Rat, "He knows a thing or two."

A cream-furred mouse in spectacles and a labcoat emerged from a door opposite the one Tanya and D'Angermouse had entered.

"Thank you, Mr Sea Rat," he murmured. "As far as I can make out the most obvious use for the auroral gold would be a flying machine. But perhaps that's just my own interests talking."

"A flying machine?" the Sea Rat replied incredulously.

"Yes, the principles are simple enough; we all know about dirigibles and I've been experimenting with gliders myself, although so far I've failed to produce powered flight. Weight of the engines, you know, even at our scale. But the auroral gold could certainly do it if treated with the correct reagents. What the alchemists would call the law of contagion; it wants to return to the dawn sky, you see?"

Rikki-tikki frowned, "All sounds a bit mystical to me." he tutted.

"Well of course it does, it's alchemy. But there's nothing unscientific about an attraction between two objects, even if we don't yet fully understand the forces involved." He adjusted his spectacles in thought. "However, 'the dawn' is a lot further away than the alchemists believed. I suspect that, suitably treated and left to its own devices, the gold would actually settle in the magnetic field of the atmosphere, with the force of attraction coming from the aurora borealis."

"Which, interesting though it may be, is irrelevant since it's unlikely the Alchemist's Cat is going to leave it to its own devices," D'Angermouse added smoothly but with some irony, trying to keep the lab-mouse on the point.

"Oh, indeed not!" exclaimed Hackwrench. "I suspect he's going to harness that power to create a flying machine! A machine that could ... well, I can't imagine what it might do!"

"Unfortunately, I can," said Hawthorn. "Dropping things on people he doesn't like, for a start. Maybe rocks, maybe some ghastly alchemical concoction."

"Indeed," said D'Angermouse, "And 'people the Alchemist's Cat doesn't like' covers just about everyone, his own followers decidedly included."


	4. The Rats in the Walls

**Book 4**

 **The Rats in the Walls**

 _October 1898_

 _Deptford sewers, Greater London_

Tanya and the Sea Rat walked cautiously through the sewer pipe. It would be ridiculous to suggest that one length of sewer was any darker or less hygienic than any other and yet, something about these tunnels, compared to those around Rat London, said to Tanya "These are the slums. Nobody cares about this place."

The plan was that Tanya and the Sea Rat, as rodents, would be able to gain access to the rat society. Hawthorn was accompanying them, and when the moment was right would alert the other two, who were following some way behind, to create a diversion that would let them steal the gold.

A young rat wearing a cloth cap noticed them. "'Ere, wot's a mousemaid doin' down 'ere?" he asked, "You lot like it up in the fresh air, don'cha?"

"We're looking for the Alchemist's Cat," said the Sea Rat directly, before Tanya could take offence.

"A cat? Ain't no cats down 'ere. We'd be goin' off our nuts if there was a cat down 'ere, wou'n't we?"

"We were told there was some kind of cult?" suggested Tanya.

"You mean 'Is Lordship?" asked the rat, puzzled, "Wot you talkin' about cats for then?"

"Um, our mistake," said Tanya, who had previous experience of rodents following cats that pretended not to be. "You follow the ... religion?"

"Nah, all this worshipful stuff ain't my thing at all. I'm gettin' out of 'ere. I want a career in the theatre!"

"You're an actor?" asked Tanya, surprised.

"Well, I'd like to be. Or maybe a singer on that phonogramph thing. Can you get to central London from 'ere? I 'eard that's where you go to become a star."

"We came by boat across the Thames," said the Sea Rat, "But you might find it simpler to get on a train. I think you'd probably get to King's Cross."

"King's Cross," the young rat said thoughtfully, "Now _that_ sounds like the sort of place showbusiness royalty would come from. One day everyone's gonna wake up to the name Orland Rat, yeah!"

"I'm sure they will," said Tanya politely, "But you were telling us about 'His Lordship'?"

"Oh, yeah. Two tunnels along and third on the left after that. But if I was you, I wou'n't go near the place!" He wandered off, presumably to Deptford railway station, leaving the visitors to follow his directions.

"What do you reckon his chances of being famous are?" the Sea Rat chuckled.

"Not great, with a claws-on-a-chalkboard voice like that," replied Tanya, "Unless he takes up dance so no-one has to listen to it!"

"Quite," Hawthorn's disembodied voice put in. "I wonder if the Camembert Academy has any vacancies?"

The joking banter quickly ceased as they found themselves in a spacious drainage area containing a large number of slovenly-looking rats who eyed them suspiciously. "And 'oo might you be?" asked one.

"We seek an ... an audience with His Lordship," said the Sea Rat.

"Oh, yeah?" said the rat suspiciously, "And wot's the mousemaid doin' 'ere then? She want an audience too?" The rats all laughed.

The Sea Rat thought quickly and then grabbed Tanya by the arm. "She's an offering to His Lordship," he said. Tanya did her best to look frightened and helpless.

The rats were puzzled. Tanya suspected it was blindingly obvious to any thinking creature that she hadn't been a prisoner until the rats had questioned her presence, but it seemed the rats of Deptford were not thinking creatures. Probably discouraged by the cat, she thought.

"Awright, then," said the spokesrat eventually, "I'll lead ya to 'im."

He took them through a narrow drain to a brick wall with a hole in it. Turning his back to them, he addressed the hole with the words "Oh, Yer Lordship. Forgive yer mangy follower for disturbin' ya, but..."

While he was distracted Tanya nodded to a corner where something golden glowed within a clay container shaped like a hare. The Sea Rat nodded back, and there was a faint splashing from behind them, which Tanya presumed was Hawthorn heading back to alert the others.

If it wasn't, it was too late to do anything about it. The Sea Rat quickly knocked the supplicant out with a blow to the back of the head and Tanya grabbed the container. From the direction they had come from, Tanya heard cries of "No room! No room!", "Rikki-tikki-tikki-tchk!" and, most of all, "'Elp! There's a loony rabbit and some sort o' weasel down 'ere!"

"It sounds like the distraction is going according to plan," she commented. "More or less."

"Aye. The question, Miss Mousekewitz, is how do we stop the barmy one after the rats are all taken care of?"

Tanya shrugged, "I think the question is, which of them _is_ the crazy one? And right now, I'd say both."

"Aye, the hare's more detached from reality, but both of 'em have the bloodwrath. Saw it in that mongoose's eyes the first time I saw him."

"Bloodwrath?"

"It's a fighting frenzy. Generally held by mustelids, but I've seen lagomorphs with it before. Once an animal's got the bloodwrath going, they won't stop until they've run out of enemies or they get killed."

Tanya would have discussed this further, but at that moment glowing yellow eyes appeared in the hole, and a soft yowling sound could be heard. With Tanya still clutching the container, the two rodents ran back through the drain before the Alchemist's Cat noticed them.

As they returned, Tanya poked her head cautiously through the mouth of the pipe. There were several rats lying in a state of unconsciousness. Most of the others had fled, and to Tanya's horror, Rikki-tikki seemed on the point of following them. (None, however, had fled through the pipe that lead to the gap in the brickwork, there apparently being something they feared more than their opponents.) The one remaining conscious rat was being held by Marchmont in one forepaw and being punched repeatedly with the other.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!" the hare yelled.

"Eh? Wot's a Jabberwock? An' I ... I ain't yer son..." the unfortunate rat gasped, before slowly sinking to the grimy floor.

Marchmont looked around wildly for more victims, while Rikki-tikki had nearly climbed up to one of the grates the rats had escaped through.

"People!" Tanya yelled, "The plan! We have what we came for, now we _leave_!"

The scarlet dimmed from Rikki-tikki's eyes. "Yes, of course. Sorry about that. Lost my head for a minute there. Marchmont?"

"It was ... the best ... butter ..." Marchmont said, slowly returning to his senses. He looked around. "There aren't as many rats here as I expected. If we don't wake them, we can probably get the stuff without a fight at all."

With great difficulty, Tanya forbore to comment.

* * *

 _Rattish Museum, London_

The League returned to their default headquarters. "Excellent work," said D'Angermouse. "Queen Mousetoria herself thanks you. Or doubtless she would, if she knew about any of this. You have done a great deed for Rodent Britain!"

"I'm glad we've done a great deed," said Tanya, "but do I have to remind you I'm not British? Nor's Rikki."

"Loyal servant of the Raj, though," said Rikki-tikki-tavi mildly.

"Well, I'm certainly pleased to have done my bit for my country," said Hawthorn.

"I'm a Sea Rat," said the Sea Rat, "I was born of Norwegian rats in Constantinople and don't hold fast to any nation, but I reckon I'm as attached to England as anywhere."

Marchmont sniffed, "And I, as I've mentioned, am a descendent of the Long Patrol, and as English as they come," he said, punctuating the statement with a noble pose.

"And what's that meant to be?" asked the Sea Rat, "An Anglo-Saxon attitude?"

"Guys, don't start again," said Tanya, getting between them, "Sorry about this, Mr D'Angermouse."

"Eh?" said D'Angermouse distractedly, "Oh, yes, splendid work all of you. Your final payment is on its way. Good day." And with that, he bustled out.

Tanya frowned. "Did that look a bit suspicious to anyone else?" she asked.

"He never struck me as exactly pukka, but he did seem to be in a damned hurry there," agreed Rikki-tikki, "Has it occurred to anyone that we don't actually know what _he's_ going to do with the auroral gold?

"Yeah," said Tanya, slowly, "Hawthorn, could you...?"

There was no answer.

"Seems like he already has," said the Sea Rat, simply.

* * *

 _Baker Street, London_

On the corner of Baker Street was a pillar box of the classic design, a hexagonal column with a decorative spike at the top. However, the carriers of Her Majesty's mails who serviced the area all assumed the box was the responsibility of one of their fellows.

And this was because the pillar box was not, in fact, a receptacle for letters provided by the General Post Office at all, but the domicile of Mr D'Angermouse. Within the box was a well laid-out flat, dominated by a full-sized telephone handset set into one wall. Arriving in the flat, D'Angermouse quickly made his way to the receiver.

"I'm here, Colonel," he said into the mouthpiece, then stepped to the earpiece to await a response.

"Do we have the gold?" came the reply. D'Angermouse hopped back to the mouthpiece.

"Yes, Colonel. It's on its way to your hangar at the Hotel Russell. Everything is ready."

"Excellent work, D'Angermouse. If this city is to be dominated by a cat, it will not be that lunatic in Deptford.

"It will be Colonel Macavity!"


	5. The Naming of Cats

**Book 5**

 **The Naming of Cats**

 _October 1898  
Baker Street, London_

"Does it bother you, D'Angermouse?" the voice continued, "Working for ... well, a cat or a criminal, take your pick."

"You're the Colonel, sir," D'Angermouse said stolidly, "You were appointed to the head of Rodent Intelligence by Her Murine Majesty's Government."

"Yes, the idea they had was that if you were playing cat-and-mouse, it was best to have a cat on your side. And they thought that since the Jellicles had disowned me, I would be loyal. Which I was, after my fashion. It never occurred to them to wonder _why_ I was ostracised from cat society; after all, there was never any evidence linking me to a crime...

He trailed off, then abruptly added, "But enough of this wander down memory lane, eh, D'Angermouse? I need to take command of my flying machine."

D'Angermouse was astonished "Personally, sir?"

"Certainly. Just this once, Macavity _will_ be there."

D'Angermouse was so taken aback by this revelation that he completely failed to notice the door opening, just a little.

* * *

 _The Rattish Museum, London_

"That's the name he used," Hawthorn told the others on his return. "Macavity. As in 'The Hidden Paw'."

"A criminal cat?" said Gizmo Hackwrench. Beneath his fur he paled in horror, "Oh, golly! I told D'Angermouse all about how to use auroral gold to power a flying machine! If he told the Colonel about that..."

"Reckon we have to assume he did," said the Sea Rat, "That's why he was in such a hurry to get the stuff out of here. His master had plans for it."

"That's right," said Hawthorn, "He talked about a hanger at the Hotel Russell. Hangars are for flying machines, aren't they?"

"I was starting to get my suspicions there was something sinister about D'Angermouse's boss," said Tanya, "But I never suspected he was a cat! I actually thought he might be Professor Ratigan."

"Ratigan's dead, isn't he?" said Marchmont, "And if he isn't, he plummeted from a flying machine in his final battle with the detective. He's not likely to go up in another one."

"There are a lot of similarities between the two," said Hawthorn, "But I'd rather face a rat than a cat any day."

"All academic though, eh?" said Rikki-tikki-tavi, "No way of facing the blighter whatever he is. He's got a flying machine and we don't."

Gizmo looked up. "That's, ah, not _entirely_ true. I did mention I was experimenting with gliders? The only trouble is the initial lift, and I have an idea about that..."

* * *

 _Russell Square, London_

The newly built hotel's elaborate frontage gleamed in the moonlight as a ginger cat slipped into a basement window. While the hotel was being built, his minions had adjusted the plans to his designs, adding extra space between the walls and floors, enough for him to slip around unnoticed and create hangar space for ... well, he hadn't troubled himself to name it, but the Machine.

His minions – all cats, since this was the highly-organised criminal enterprise of the Mystery Cat, not the ineffectual squeaking of Rodent Intelligence – bustled about in preparation. "You!" he snapped to one of them, "You have the gold?"

"'Course we have, boss. Nice and safe in its container, right, Rumpleteaser?"

"Right, Mungojerrie. No problem, boss."

Macavity sighed. They were two of his best agents, but their stagy stereotype of a cheery cockney attitude drove him to distraction. "Then get it installed!" he hissed.

Eventually, someone would think to look for him in this basement. By that time, however, he would be up in the air.

* * *

A short while later a huge trapdoor at the back of the hotel that everyone involved had assumed led to a coal cellar opened. The craft that emerged was not pretty. It had been made out of scrap metal and scores of cat-baskets lashed together. It was flat at the bottom, and curved upwards in a great wicker arch with a barred metal frontage. It was nine feet in height at its tallest point, and the same width at the base, giving it three storeys worth of space for a crew of cats.

In the control room Macavity exulted as he issued commands to the one-eyed cat at the pilot's station. This was true power! Much more than controlling the petty intrigues of mice, or even commanding the feline underworld. The Machine had bomb-bays on the lower deck, and the only question on his mind was who to direct them at first? The rats of Deptford and their insane god? The Burrow of Commons under Westminster, where Queen Mousetoria's patronising government dwelled? The new Cheddar Bank building in the City, home of the richest mouse in London? Or his own people, the hated Jellicle Cats of Russell Square itself?

* * *

As the fiendish feline debated with himself, and the Machine moved steadily up and round the hotel building, back on the ground a curious contraption was travelling along the street, pulled by a dog Professor Hackwrench had gained the assistance of by mentioning a mutual friend.

"Good boy, Toby," he said reassuringly to the dog, as he turned the crank on the device. The League assembled themselves in the balsa-wood glider, which had been mounted onto a ballista of Gizmo's own design.

"By the Green Mouse," murmured Hawthorn, watching the Machine ascend, "It's enormous!"

" Well, the good news there is that it makes the dashed thing easier to aim at," said Gizmo, "But if my aim isn't completely true, you can steer the glider by using the yoke to warp the wings, as I demonstrated."

The Sea Rat nodded. "It's the same as the tiller of the Vermin," he said confidently, "Only different."

Tanya would have liked to have questioned that statement, but before she had the opportunity, Hackwrench released the ballista.


	6. The Best-Laid Plans

**Book 6**

 **The Best-Laid Plans**

 _October 1898_

 _Russell Square, London_

The glider landed precariously on the upper deck of the Machine, only for the League to find themselves surrounded by a swarm of cats. Only two things kept them alive at this point; firstly that there were so many cats that each of them thought the others could deal with the intruders, and secondly that any cat that _did_ make an attempt was fought against by a Sea Rat with a belaying pin; a red-eyed mongoose with vicious teeth and claws; something they could not even see, but it seemed to have a sword; and a boxing hare shouting incomprehensibly about how easy it would be to have more wine.

If the cats had co-ordinated, they could probably have taken the League down quickly enough, but it is a hard business for cats to co-ordinate at the best of times, let alone when faced with something as disconcerting as this. The chaos was such that Tanya found it surprisingly easy to slip away from the others and locate the auroral gold, exactly where Gizmo Hackwrench had said it would be, if the flying machine was based on the theories he had shared with D'Angermouse.

The noise reached the control room, disturbing Macavity, who had just decided upon bombing Deptford first, and was carefully double-checking the mathematics of travel in his head. He sighed and made his way to the hatch.

"Growltiger!" Macavity snapped, "Keep this thing steady!"

"I'm trying, Colonel!" yowled the pilot, "I told you, it's not like steering a barge! It would help if the damn' thing hadn't been built by heathen Siamese!"

Macavity rolled his eyes. Two of his most reliable agents seemed to think they were a music-hall double act and his deputy was a frothing racist. Of _course_ he had to do everything himself.

He climbed up to where Tanya was trying ineffectually to pull the clay container out of its casing. "Ah," she said, turning to face him, "Hi."

"Do you know, Miss Mousekewitz," he purred, "what the most trying and annoying thing about being head of Rodent Intelligence has been?"

"Having to pay for D'Angermouse's suit to get laundered three times a day?"

Macavity gave a perfunctory chuckle. "No, Miss Mousekewitz. It's having to restrain myself from eating any of you. A policy I don't really think I need to bother with any more." And he pounced.

But Tanya ducked, causing Macavity to turn round in mid-air trying to work out where she'd gone. Inertia kept him going and he crashed directly into the auroral gold container, shattering it. Tanya scrambled back into the glider, followed by the rest of the League, and as the Machine started to fall, the glider caught an air current and left the deck. Macavity, seeing the auroral gold heading away from him, unthinkingly clutched at it. It continued to rise.

As he disappeared into the clouds, the last thing Macavity saw was the frontage of the hotel.

 _And, presumably_ , Tanya thought, as the glider entered what the Sea Rat was optimistically calling a "controlled crash", _he'll end up in that magnetic sphere of Professor Hackwrench's._

* * *

 _November 1898_

 _St James's Street, London_

A couple of weeks later, the glider landed much more gently outside the Drones gentleman's club, nearly hitting a human who muttered about these "bally pigeons all over London."

"Well, we're here," said the Sea Rat, "But why?"

"Search me," said Tanya, "You all got the same note I did, this time."

"I don't wish to alarm you fellows," said Hawthorn, "But there's a cat coming towards us. Again."

Indeed, a feline shape wandered slowly out of the club and headed towards the League.

"We can easily outrun him if he's a threat," replied Tanya, "He's fatter than D'Angermouse!"

The black and white cat was indeed remarkably overweight. "You must be D'Angermouse's League of Extraordinary Gentlebeasts," he said, "Bustopher Jones at your service. But you can think of me as the new Colonel."

"So Rodent Intelligence is still run by a cat?" the Sea Rat asked.

"Yes, but a more reasonable one than Macavity, I hope. And one who is sure there will be more missions for your little team. Although for now, I suggest you take a little holiday."

"Really?" said Rikki-tikki in disappointment, "There's nothing else happening just now?"

"As best as I can tell from Macavity's appalling filing system, nothing where your talents might be needed. The Meerkovo crisis is probably better dealt with by conventional agents, and bringing a mongoose into it would be problematic in any event. Macgregor Farm is currently under observation, but there's been no need to act as yet. There's a curious report from the American town of Junctionville that the mice there have somehow earned the wrath of the Shaman of the North Pole, but I'm at a loss as to what anyone can do about that save the residents themselves. And I believe the Rescue Aid Society is currently working on the Moreau situation, so I'm loathe to interfere until I know how they're getting on."

Jones smiled at them, presumably unaware of how unsettling it was. Or maybe, Tanya thought, he was perfectly aware and didn't care. "Something's bound to turn up sooner or later, though. It always does."

* * *

 _Llantisilly, Wales_

Indeed, little could anyone at that meeting have suspected that, at that very moment, a curious vessel was descending from space. Unnoticed by animal or human, it alighted outside a curiosity shop called "Emily's" and slowly opened. From the vessel there emerged a creature that resembled a mouse, only bright pink with a curiously textured skin. And, looking around, the creature declared its arrival on Earth in its own language, and a voice like a slide-whistle.

 _What is this strange creature? What are its plans for the good rodents of the British Empire? All may be revealed in a second volume of_ The League of Extraordinary Gentlebeasts. _Until then, God Save Queen Mousetoria, and Rule Rodentia!_


End file.
